Beyond the Darkness

I don’t remember much of the world that was. It seems so long ago, like a dream, it remains in the recesses of my mind. I grew up in this world, after the end of everything, when the creatures came. They came out of the chaos of a war that could not be won, after man had finally invented their own destruction, leaders of nations had spoken of peace while threatening war and then they launched there nukes, instantly wiping out two thirds of the worlds population and making most of the land unlivable except for a few pockets tucked in valleys in the far reaches of the different land masses. The radiation from the nukes had killed most living things, humans, animals and nature alike, it did not discriminate, it just destroyed. Anything on the edge that didn’t die but could not escape became a living nightmare, changed into unrecognizable monsters that could not think except to destroy what was left. Things we once had were gone, weapons like guns and ammunition and artillery were replaced with blades, swords made by those who could work with steel. We learned to make bows and arrows. For in the instant the nukes hit we were blown back into the Stone Age. We not only had to defend against marauders but also the radians, for that is what we now called the creatures, they had begun to leave the areas of radiation and were wandering into the valleys, and had begun to attack our havens in ever increasing numbers.

A cold wind stirred the early morning mist before dawn. The lush grass in the large clearing, wet with dew, gleamed in the moonlight. A shadow, barely more than a dark shape, indistinguishable as man or beast, ghosted through the mist and disappeared only to be replaced by another, slightly larger shape. This one was joined by a third that was only half its size. They simply moved about and then dissolved into the swirling fog. Then more would appear and disappear in the same fashion. I stood at the edge of the clearing, staring into the abyss, unmoving. In my right hand, I held a sword, simply but beautifully made, the handle was twisted steel wrapped in leather with black and gold wire winding down from the hilt. On the pommel was carved a Phoenix, wings raised, gloriously emerging from the flames that had previously destroyed it. The blade itself was not over three feet in length and was about three inches in width at the hilt and tapered slightly to the tip. It was a simple double edged blade that belonged to my Father, he had it made by a blacksmith not long after the war ended and the radians came.

A slight breeze, almost undetectable, touched my skin and gently stirred the mist. Suddenly I felt a presence, as silently a figure moved up beside me. I did not take my eyes from the shapes that still moved in shadow until she gently touched my arm. I turned my head and looked down at the girl. She was beyond beautiful, her skin was smooth as silk and seemed to glow in the moonlight as if she were from another world, her dark hair spilled in waves over her shoulders and reached her waist. Her red lips were full and soft and turned up at the right corner in a slight smile of resigned determination, knowing what was to come. Her large eyes, blue with green hues, like the rolling sea after a storm, were loving and tender and soft and intense all at the same time as if a thousand emotions were flowing through her kind heart. She wore a simple leather armor breastplate and arm guards I had made her and carried a bow in her left hand. A quiver of arrows hung at her right side and a short sword that looked identical to the one I carried was strapped on her left hip. Around her neck hung a solid gold locket in the shape of a heart. That same locket that my mother had worn when the war began, the one she wore when we buried my father. I had never seen her without it, not when we buried my brother or when my sister disappeared. Then finally, when she let go of life to join them she placed that locket in my hand and told me that it had been a part of our family since the dark ages, and that as my grandfather had given it to my grandmother as a pledge of his love, and as my father had given it to her, so I would give it to the one I loved.

I heard the rustling of movement behind me as the others came to stand with me, they were dressed in various forms of leather armor and furs, and carried an assortment of weapons ranging from swords and spears and even long knives, to bows and arrows. We stood together. grim determination on every face, the lines of hardship and sorrow crossed with the lines of joy we had found in the life we had built together, once strangers from across a world and now a family brought together by the end of a world. but we had risen above that, we had carved a life out of nothing and we were stronger than generations before us. This was our home, our loved ones, our family and we would fight for it. We would die fighting, for it is not a life to live in fear nor to shrink from adversity but to fight for the life you would have, fight for the love that is born in all men and women, for then we are made great. We are glorious when we accept death, when we calmly accept our fate; but when we fight, like a cornered tiger. wounded and bloody, with a broken weapon in hand defiant against any who demand surrender. then we are sublime, then we are avenged even in death.

All of this flowed through my mind and my heart swelled with pride. If I died today, I would die with honor. The shadows began to take shape as the creatures came closer. through the mist they moved, hideous and dark twisted beings like demons, without souls, without hearts, just death. they came then, like a flood across the quiet clearing and we waited for them.